Today I wore my warmest sweater.

Thick, unrelenting wool-

colored bright orange, as if to also

scare the cold by blinding it.

Today, I insulate myself against you

for what was once a boundless summer is now

a new ice age.

And it has frozen spring in it’s very blooming-

children, sparrows, and hopeful pink flowers

now lay perfect preserved in ice.

The ice is not kind, but keeps their beauty

as if somewhere, within his frosty heart

he still cares for them.

I insulate myself against my joy-

I insulate myself with sweaters of all kinds-

new friends, desperate hopes, plans-

the winter-time chores of storage and preparation.

But, it is no substitute for spring.

I put off wondering if I’ll ever see spring again

and labor on.

my fondest hope – one I bury deep underneath layers

of sweater, undershirt and skin-

is that someday, when this ice age has changed the

very mountains- changed the landscape so that

the sandstone of your love

is now a new shape

and can be given to me as true friendship-

The ice will melt

And give me you, again.

Copyright Lane K. Eddington. All Rights Reserved.

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